


we'd be good, we'd be great

by arranger



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-03 15:46:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4106317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arranger/pseuds/arranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which bokuto and kuroo figure some things out. shenanigans are had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [auber_jean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/auber_jean/gifts).



> song title from "goodnight and go" by imogen heap.
> 
> i split the story into two parts and the latter half will go up some time later this week! i hope you don't mind the wait, and i hope you like your gift! \o/
> 
> edit 19/03/2016: since we know the fukurodani managers' names now i finally went ahead and changed the one reference i had in here. thanks furudate-sensei!

A loud slap echoes through the gym, followed a moment later by the exploding sound of a volleyball hitting the floor. The three people in the gym stare for a moment at the empty spot on the ground where the ball slammed down. There's what resembles silence for a moment--the sound of the volleyball rolling into the wall, the low hum of the fan running--and then a loud shout:

“Did you _see_ that?!”

Kuroo laughs when he sees Bokuto start to do his victory dance, if it can be called a dance. Akaashi, who had been momentarily still, is back to rolling his eyes at Bokuto. It was becoming a habit.

“Nicely done,” Kuroo says, adding a slow clap for emphasis. “Looks like it's gonna be a good year!”

Bokuto stops in the middle of some head-bobbing dance move that resembles a pigeon walking and turns to Kuroo. “You know it! The nationals aren't even gonna know what hit 'em! Right Akaashi?” He spins around in a perfect 180 turn to look at Akaashi, but Akaashi's already across the court picking up volleyballs.

“We still have a lot to work on, Bokuto-san,” he says without sparing a glance in Bokuto's direction. Bokuto's head turns as his line of sight follows Akaashi dragging the volleyball cart.

“Aww, come on Akaashi! Get excited!”

“If it's any consolation, I'm excited for you, bro.” Kuroo stands up and extends his hand for a high five, which Bokuto gladly takes as an opportunity to pull him in for a one-armed hug. Kuroo hugs him back firmly with his other arm and pats his back for good measure. As he pulls away, they hear Akaashi call over from the other side of the gym.

“I'm heading out now, Bokuto-san. I'll leave locking up to you.”

“Alright, see you tomorrow Akaashi! Good job today!”

The door to the gym closes behind Akaashi and even though an evening chill is settling in outside, the stuffy heat of the gym closes in around them. Bokuto tugs on the collar of his sweat-stained shirt and Kuroo throws him his water bottle.

“Practice tomorrow is gonna be even more intense,” he says before taking a swig from the bottle. His exhausted expression gives way to a wide smile. “I can't wait! This season's gonna be great, bro. I can feel it.”

He takes another long swig before putting the bottle in his gym bag and slinging the bag over his shoulder. “Let's head out!”

Kuroo gives him a once over and points to the giant sweat stain growing from his neck down his back. “Bro, you're not gonna change shirts?”

“Huh?” He turns in place as he tries to look at his back, then gives up on it. Kuroo snickers. “Nah it’ll be fine. It won’t take that long to get home anyway.” He shrugs.

“If you say so.” Kuroo sticks his hands into his pockets as soon as they’re outside, and Bokuto locks the gym door behind them. “Anyway, let’s stop by FamilyMart on the way back, I need some snacks if I’m gonna get through studying tonight.”

“Aww dude, really? It’s the beginning of the semester, what do you have to study for?” 

“I gotta keep up my grades, bro. Can’t get kicked off the team.”

“Come on, they wouldn’t kick the captain off the team! What are they supposed to do without you?” 

Kuroo shrugs. “I mean, I guess Kai could do a decent job.”

He feels Bokuto’s punch to his arm before he sees it, and he lets out a small ‘ow.’ He rubs his arm as Bokuto talks at a volume level probably not appropriate for anywhere or anytime. “Don’t say that! Don’t sell yourself short dude!”

“I never said I was, I was just complimenting Kai! No need to get violent, jeez.”

“Oh!” Bokuto’s eyebrows rise halfway up his forehead. “Sorry ‘bout that. But hey, speaking of Kai, how’s he doing? How’s the team lookin’?” He shivers a bit and crosses his arms as they walk.

“He’s been doin’ good, the whole team has. We got this tall first year on the team who’s pretty fast; I think you’ll like him. He’s a good kid.” Kuroo pauses when they hit an intersection, looks both ways, and continues. “We’ve also got a new libero, which takes a load off my mind for next year.”

They turn onto a small street into a quiet neighborhood, taking the shortcut they both know. Bokuto jogs ahead of Kuroo by a few meters and turns around, his hands tucked tightly under his arms. “Man, you’re already thinking so far ahead! I’ve got enough on my mind thinking about this year!” He jogs in place.

“Don’t think too hard now.” Bokuto frowns. Kuroo laughs. “Also, uh,” he continues, gesturing to Bokuto’s shivering form. “Are you cold?”

Bokuto’s eyebrows arch even higher. “What? No! I’m fine, don’t sweat it.”

“You’re the one who’s all sweaty, bro.”

“Well, yeah! But…” The look of utter concentration on his face almost makes Kuroo lose it. “You know what I mean!”

“If you say so,” Kuroo says. His shit-eating grin shrinks to a closed-mouth smirk.

It only takes another minute of walking for Bokuto to bring it up again. “I mean, now that you mention it, it _is_ kind of chilly. Just a little bit.”

“I told you so. Just change shirts.”

“Where?”

“How about here?” Kuroo gestures to a nearby narrow alleyway. 

He doesn’t expect Bokuto to take it seriously, but Bokuto just pauses, shrugs, and walks into said alleyway. He sets his duffel bag down.

“Hey, cover me in case someone comes by!”

Kuroo lets out a small sigh. 

He stands in the entrance of the alleyway, his back facing Bokuto. He waits a minute and hears the zipper of the duffel bag, the rustling of clothes being pulled out. In the small space between the roofs above them, the sky is already turning dark. He digs his hands deeper into his pockets.

“You know, if the police come by and arrest you for being some kind of pervert, I don’t think I can bust you out of jail.”

“What? Come on bro, I thought you said you had my back!”

“You know I do, but I don’t have the money for bail, so you’re tough outta luck. Sorry.” He looks over his shoulder to find Bokuto pulling a clean t-shirt over his head. He turns a bit as he glances down at Bokuto’s torso, raises his eyebrows at the contours outlining the muscles on his arms and stomach. 

“Bro, have you been lifting?”

Bokuto pokes his head out of the shirt, eyes wide like an owl’s. “Yeah! Can you tell? You can, right?” He raises his eyebrows, smirks, and flexes his biceps and triceps for good measure.

“Not gonna lie, you’re lookin’ pretty swole,” Kuroo says, still looking at Bokuto’s now-clothed torso, the cuff of his t-shirt sleeves snug around his arms. He turns to face forward and sighs. “I dunno if I can hang out with you anymore; I’m gonna look bad in comparison.”

“Hey, don’t say that!” There’s the sound of zipping and then Bokuto’s next to him, duffle bag over his shoulder. “I mean, it is a little bit true-- Ouch!” He rubs his arm where Kuroo elbowed him. “But I’ll let you in on my workout routine and you, too, can have these guns!” More flexing. “We should work out together! Well, when you’re not studying, I guess.”

Kuroo sees him deflate a bit at his last sentence, and nudges him in the side, gently this time. “Yeah, bro, for sure. I’ll make some time. I gotta get fit for those recruiters, you know?”

He perks up at that, spiked silver-white hair seeming to stand straighter with his posture. “Alright! I’ll work on a workout for you! Nothing too intense, y’know, since you probably can’t lift that much.”

He earns himself another elbowing, only this time Kuroo runs ahead before Bokuto can try to get his revenge. Bokuto yells, “Hey, wait up!” and runs after him into the nearby FamilyMart, the store’s welcoming jingle leaking out into the quiet street as the sliding doors close behind them. 

 

Bokuto may have thought Kuroo was thinking too much, but standing in the Nekoma gym again on Monday, his new team set out in front of him, he can see they’ve got a long way to go. Coach Nekomata’s back, and the pressure to make his return count for something doesn’t escape Kuroo, even if he tells the others they shouldn’t worry about that kind of thing. _What matters is the match in front of us._

He stands on the sidelines and takes mental notes on the three-on-three match happening in front of him. He’s got Kai setting for Inuoka and Shibayama on one side, Kenma, Lev, and Yaku on the other. The match would seem almost unfairly balanced in the latter team’s favor, but the score is currently 20 to 12 with Kai’s team leading.

When the game finally ends (Yaku’s team managed to score another three points before getting crushed), Kenma mumbles his disapproval at having to put in extra effort for a three-on-three game before taking off to the club room. Yaku chugs his bottle of water and comes to sit near Kuroo.

“Honestly, I’d rather you use my head as a volleyball than have to be on the same team as that scarecrow again. Do you know how tiring that was?”

Kuroo gives Yaku a thump on the shoulder and a half-smile that probably comes out more playful than encouraging. “I can probably take a guess. But hey, don’t you think he’s improving?”

“He’s certainly gotten better at getting the ball over the net,” Kai says as he walks over to join them.

“Yeah well, if he’s supposed to be our secret weapon like Coach is hoping, he’s got a hell of a long way to go,” Yaku says. He crosses his arms and looks out at the court. As if to prove his point, Lev botches a serve and gets a face full of volleyball. Kuroo winces a bit, but Lev shakes it off and eagerly waves at them when he realizes he’s got their attention.

“Did you see that? I almost had it over the net!” he yells. Well, says at his usual volume of speech. 

“You barely had it over your head!” is the response he gets from Yaku, who jogs over to Lev anyway to see if he’s alright.

Kuroo watches them quarrel for a moment, their words lost in the cloud of sound fogging up the gym. Kai snaps him out of it.

“Do you believe what Coach said? About Lev, I mean.

The sounds of the gym come through to him again--- Lev yelling something about _going to be the ace, don’t worry Yaku-san_ , Yamamoto loudly promising Inuoka and Shibayama snacks on the way home for their hard work today, the scuffle of sneakers as people leave the gym, the volleyball cart being put away, the coaches’ quiet discussion behind them--

“I think I do,” he says. He turns around to look at where their coaches are packing up for the day. “Coach Naoi played under Coach Nekomata, and he trusts him. He must have some kind of hunch.”

Kai stuffs his things into his duffel bag and waits for Kuroo to do the same, and they head out of the gym. Kuroo locks up the doors behind them.

“I agree with you, but it’s a little bit concerning. We’ve always had a stable team, especially in terms of defense. Lev still feels like too much of a variable during games.”

Kuroo responds with a small hum of acknowledgment. “Still, it might be the variable that pushes us that one step forward. We’re a stable team, but stable isn’t always enough to get to the nationals.”

He knows Kai must be thinking about their first year, how they made it so close in the prelims before being beaten out by a powerful machine of a team right before they could make it to nationals. 

Kai nods. He gives Kuroo a small smile. “It would be nice to stand on the same stage as Fukurodani, wouldn’t it?”

He doesn’t realize it’s what he’s been thinking recently, but he finds it’s true. It often escapes him, that one of his closest friends is one of the best high school players in the country, on the best team in Tokyo. 

Maybe that’s why Bokuto didn’t seem to have many worries as a captain. What’s there to worry about when your team goes to nationals every year, almost like a guarantee?

Still, for some reason, he’s never found himself jealous or…. resentful, of Bokuto. Their practice matches bring out Kuroo’s competitive streak something fierce, but the desire to win is a different one. 

He doesn’t realize it’s because he’d been wanting to go to nationals _with_ him and Fukurodani, not until Kai mentions it. 

“Kuroo?”

They’ve walked a few blocks and hit an intersection where Kuroo will turn left and Kai will go straight.

“It would,” Kuroo says. “Be nice, I mean.”

 

Actually, scratch that. Scratch any nice thoughts he’s had about Bokuto, now that the very same owl-haired bastard is doubled over in laughter, pointing at him when he can take a moment from wiping the tears out of his eyes.

Kuroo, for his part, doesn’t see what’s so funny about the fact that there’s a volleyball glued to his hand. Well, okay, he can admit it’s kind of funny, and he’d find it even funnier if he’d been the one to pull it off. And staying mad at Bokuto is difficult when he looks ridiculous laughing with his whole body, mouth open even wider than usual, hunched shoulders bouncing with every gasp he takes.

“Aw dude, that’s even better than I was expecting! I didn’t think you’d really get it stuck on you!”

“You put superglue on it, what did you expect to happen?” 

“To be fair, once you noticed the ball had been glued to the floor, you could’ve been more careful handling it,” Kenma adds without looking up from whatever game he’s playing on his phone. Kuroo swipes his volleyball hand near Kenma’s face and watches him move back to dodge it, never taking his eyes off the phone. His eyebrows furrow. “You almost broke my combo.” 

Kuroo can’t really be upset about Kenma’s commentary when he knows he’s got a point. Honestly, he should have expected something from the moment he’d stepped into the Fukurodani gym and seen Bokuto stifling giggles. At first he thought there was something on his face or in his hair, but after confirming that wasn’t the case, he’d let it slip his mind.

Big mistake. He’d found a corner of the gym to stretch in when Konoha had yelled, “Kuroo! Do you think you could pass me that ball over there?”

He looked down to find a volleyball stopped by the wall of the gym from rolling anywhere, and really, that should’ve been another sign. But he’d leaned down anyway, attempted to pick up the ball with one hand, frowned when it hadn’t budged.

He’d furrowed his eyebrows and tried again with two hands this time. It wasn’t until the third try when he actually squatted down and tried to lift the ball up with his whole body that he clued in to the sound of stifled laughter behind him.

Behind him, most of his own team and half the Fukurodani team were holding in their giggling while Washio and Akaashi were the only two to remain completely straight-faced, though Kuroo swore he could see Akaashi’s shoulders shake the slightest bit as he turned around and walked away.

Bokuto, of course, was on the ground, literally rolling with laughter. 

“Did you all plan this?” Kuroo asked, betrayal evident in his face and tone of voice. That seemed to make Bokuto laugh harder.

Konoha lifted both his hands and shook his head. “No, this was Bokuto’s dumb idea, he just needed someone to help him pull it off.” He snorted. “Not that I expected it would really work.”

Bokuto ignored the jab at his prank, clearly reveling in its actual success. “What’s wrong, bro? Can’t even lift a volleyball? That workout plan I gave you too easy?” His face practically met the ground again at his own joke.

Kuroo knew he had just been trying to get a rise out of him, but damn him if he’d let Bokuto get the last laugh here. He’d gripped his fingers harder on the ball, squatted, and pulled up with all his strength. A small ripping noise, then a grunt of victory from Kuroo had sounded as he lifted the ball in his hands.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that? I didn’t hear you over the sound of my manly strength ripping this ball off the wall. Like Hercules, or something.” Kuroo grinned and held up the ball.

“Pretty sure Hercules could lift more than a volleyball,” Kenma had muttered from his spot on the bench, though Kuroo had ignored him in favor of kissing his own bicep.

Only when he’d lifted his arm had he noticed the ball was now stuck on his hand, which sent everyone into another fit of laughter. He could’ve sworn he even saw Washio laughing quietly on the other side of the court.

Which brings them to their current state-- Bokuto laughing, Kuroo waving his volleyball-arm in the air, and the rest of the gym going back to business as usual. 

“Kuroo! Go get that thing off your arm then get back to practice,” Coach Naoi calls over from where he’s been sitting, watching the whole thing unfold. He probably could’ve prevented this. Traitors, all of them.

He’s just about to ask how exactly he’s supposed to do that when Akaashi comes back with one of Fukurodani’s managers in tow. She reaches into her bag, pulls out a small bottle of some liquid, and places it into Kuroo’s non-occupied hand.

“It’s nail polish remover,” she says. “You’re lucky I was planning on doing my nails with my friends later. I don’t normally carry this around.”

Kuroo bows in thanks and looks at the small bottle in his hands. “Uh, how do I…”

“You just rub some where the glue is and then wash it off. Do you need help?”

Bokuto chooses that moment to finally rise from where he’d been kneeling on the ground. He raises a hand in protest. “Don’t worry about it, it’s my fault so I’ll take care of it! Thanks so much for your help, Suzumeda!”

“Anytime,” she says with an amused smile. With that, Bokuto leads him into the bathroom by the shoulders and shoves his hands into the sink.

“I appreciate the help bro, but I think I’ve got this.”

Bokuto raises an eyebrow. “How are you gonna do that if you’ve got a hand full of volleyball?” 

“...point taken.”

“Besides, it is kind of my fault! Technically speaking.”

“Yeah well, maybe if I’d been smart enough to just leave the ball there.”

“Yeah bro, that was pretty dumb of you, not gonna lie-- Ow! Kuroo!” Bokuto says as Kuroo elbows him with his free arm.

“Whoops, sorry.” He smirks.

He lets Bokuto work on getting his hand peeled away from the volleyball bit by bit in silence. After a few minutes, his hand is finally free of the ball, but there’s still super glue on his skin. Bokuto pours some of the nail polish remover on it and they both work on rubbing it away.

“Man, it sure was lucky Suzumeda had this stuff, wasn’t it?” Kuroo hums in agreement. Bokuto continues. “I don’t know what the team would do without her, she’s always so helpful!”

Kuroo just hums again. He’d never talked to her much, nor formed an opinion on her. He gives Bokuto’s shoulder a small shove. “You think she’s cute, bro?”

“Huh? Well, yeah!”

Kuroo smirks. “Does that mean she’s your type? I’m sure the team could help you hook that up.”

“No way!” Bokuto waves his arms in front of him as he shakes his head, spilling half the nail polish remover over his arms and hands as a result. He hurries to set the bottle upright on the counter. “It’s not like that! Really.”

“You sure?” Kuroo raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I dunno, she’s more like a cute little sister to me y’know?” He scratches the back of his head, realizes he’s still got nail polish remover on him, and puts his hands under the faucet.

“Whatever you say.”

The water running is the only sound in the bathroom for a few minutes as Bokuto washes his arms and Kuroo finishes peeling super glue off his hands. He feels relieved, in some odd way. He chalks it up to the fact that he’s finally got the stuff off him and he doesn’t have to worry about having to go through life with a volleyball hand. That makes sense.

“What made you wanna pull a stunt like that anyway?” Kuroo asks. “Not that I don’t appreciate a good prank, but I feel like I must’ve done something to provoke this.”

“No, it’s not that! You’re good, bro!” Bokuto turns the tap off and stands up straight, looking at Kuroo in the mirror. “You just kinda seem… I dunno. Stressed? Lately?” He looks down and Kuroo’s gaze follows Bokuto’s to where his hands are fidgeting with the sink knobs. “Thought a good laugh could get your mind off things, y’know?”

Kuroo forgets whatever cheeky comment he’d had in mind and pauses for a moment, staring at Bokuto’s hands. When he looks up, Bokuto’s looking at him with a small smile, and really, he’s gotta hand it to him. Bokuto’s too simple-minded to be a good liar-- Kuroo knows that from experience-- but sometimes he notices more than Kuroo gives him credit for. 

He seems to be waiting for Kuroo to react, but they both hear someone yell, “What’s taking you guys so long?!” from the gym, and the moment passes. Kuroo pats Bokuto on the back.

“Alright bro, thanks. Now you bring that volleyball back in, I’m not touching it again.”

Kuroo hears Bokuto’s laughter from behind him as he walks out of the bathroom. He smiles.

 

Of course, as good-natured and kind-hearted as Kuroo may be, he also believes what goes around comes around, and should there be someone who needs it coming to them, well, he’s glad to help.

A relatively mundane week passes by. Practice goes as usual, and he thinks he sees some flicker of progress with Lev, though it’s been one step forward, two steps back. He texts Bokuto pictures of Lev face-planting on the ground, covert pictures of Kenma playing his new idol game, pictures of the scratches he got the other day when he tried to pet a cat. 

Bokuto always responds with at least three exclamation marks and an emoji or two for good measure. _rejected by your own kind!!! lmao XD_ he gets after that last one. 

A week goes by, and he decides to put his plan into action.

_hey dude, i’m lookin to add jogging to my workout routine. you wanna come with to scope out this park near my house?_

He gets a reply a minute later. _yeah sure dude!!!! when were you thinking? :O_

_i was hoping for a morning run before practice? help warm up u know_

This time the reply takes two minutes-- pretty long by Bokuto’s standards. _aww bro come on that’s so early!!! i gotta get my beauty sleep on D:_

_not up for it? nah its cool, i figured. not everyone has that much stamina after all_

A fast reply. _is that a challenge?? well ok you’re on then let’s see who’s complaining about stanima after i run circles around you!!! >:D_

Following that are two short texts in quick succession, _stamina**_ and _what’s stamina btw???_

 

Two days later sees Bokuto pounding on Kuroo’s door as the perfectly functioning doorbell remains to his left, unused. Kuroo squeezes out the door and closes it behind him.

“The heck, bro? I said knock quietly, my family’s asleep.”

“Oh!” He yells, then brings it down to a stage whisper. “Sorry. I forgot.”

Kuroo shakes his head in resignation, amused smile slowly rising on his tired face. “It’s cool, just try to keep it down. My mom’s a beast if you mess up her sleep schedule.” He motions to the bag Bokuto’s brought with him. “Is that your stuff?”

“Yeah! I thought I’d shower here after.” A pause. “If that’s cool with you?”

“Yeah, sure, no problem. Here, I’ll take this stuff inside. Just hold tight a few minutes, okay?”

He closes the door to Bokuto nodding profusely and mimicking zipping his mouth shut. Kuroo knows he doesn’t have a lot of time before Bokuto gets restless, so he makes quick work of taking Bokuto’s things to the bathroom and ruffling through its contents till he finds what he’s looking for: Bokuto’s hair products.

He sets them down on the counter and brings out the generic 100 yen shampoo his mom had gotten with a coupon at the supermarket, as well as a bottle of sesame oil for good measure. After twisting the caps off, he fills the half empty containers with his new concoction, caps them up again, and shakes it to distribute them. 

He peeks out the bathroom door to check the clock in the kitchen. Five minutes have passed. Bokuto’s definitely going to start knocking on the door again in another minute, so he puts all the containers back into Bokuto’s duffel bag, grabs his things, and rushes out the door, trying to conceal the huge grin on his face.

“Come on man, let’s go! I’m itching to get out there and prove you wrong about that stamina thing. Which I looked up! By the way! So I know what it is now.” He closes his eyes and crosses his arms, clearly proud of himself for not having had to ask Akaashi this time. 

Kuroo pats him on the back. “Good job, bro, I’m proud of you.” 

It’s a fifteen minute walk to the park. The air is chilly, but with spring already in the air and summer not too far off, it’s more refreshing than anything. When they get there, Bokuto immediately yells out, “On your mark, getsetgo! Later loser!” and sprints off down the path, leaving Kuroo little choice but to try to catch up.

Bokuto’s got a good lead on him but Kuroo comes across him not too far ahead at a fork in the path, panting with his hands on his knees. He’d expected this.

“I’m not tired,” he pants. “I just didn’t,” more panting, “know which way to go!”

“Yeah, okay,” Kuroo pants, because he really can’t get anymore out. “Could we pace ourselves on this next part? Gotta save some energy for practice.”

“Good thinking bro! I was just gonna say that myself, actually.” He stands up straight and clears his throat. “So uh. Which way?”

Kuroo leads them down the path he’d heard was the most scenic. It was also the longer route, so they keep up a brisk pace that keep either of them from being able to talk much. 

It was worth it. They really hadn’t been lying when they said the route was scenic, especially with the flowers along the path fully in bloom. On their left they were shaded by trees, on their right was a small pond. Even without his earbuds and music playing, Kuroo found it easy to lose himself in moments like these.

He spares a glance at Bokuto when he comes back to himself. Bokuto’s gaze is directly ahead, his face seeming relaxed despite the small furrow of concentration in his eyebrows. Kuroo thinks he must be in his own head too. It doesn’t happen often, moments like these. When it does, Kuroo finds himself wishing he had the ability to read minds or just to slip into wherever Bokuto’s head is right now, know what’s occupying him enough to keep him completely silent.

When they hit the three-quarter mark, they take a short break. Kuroo expects Bokuto to break the silence immediately, but he just leans against the railing separating the path from the pond, looking out over it. When he finally turns to look at Kuroo, he’s got a wide smile on his face.

“Thanks for inviting me out here, bro!” He turns to look at the pond again. “I think I kinda needed it.”

Kuroo leans back against the railing and nudges Bokuto’s arm with his. “What do you mean? Something up, bro?”

Bokuto scratches at the back of his head and winces. “No, I mean, not really… It’s nothing, actually! I’ve just been, y’know, thinking more and more about the team.” He leans forward against the railing on his forearms as he continues. “Coach says he’s worried about all the third years graduating this year, and I hadn’t even really thought about that. I mean, what an obvious thing to miss, right?” 

He shakes his head. “This whole captain thing is kinda harder than I expected. Just a little! Not that much, it’s just different, I guess.” He sighs. “Man, how do you do it?”

“Me? What are you talking about, I do the same stuff you do. I mean, I don’t really have to do much, what with Coach Nekomata back and all.”

“Nah bro, there’s more than that! You do a bunch of stuff as captain! Like that speech you guys do before you play, what is it?” He lowers his voice and makes a serious face. “‘We are the blood. Send oxygen to the brain.’ Something like that right?”

“Are you mocking me bro?”

“No!” He stands up, then folds over the railing again in exasperation. “It’s really cool! I wish I could say that kind of thing to my team.”

Kuroo leans closer against Bokuto’s arm, gently nudging it again. “I’m sure you could start, if you wanted to. Just can’t copy ours, though.”

“Nah, I don’t think the team would take me seriously. That kinda thing suits you better!” 

“What are you talking about, the team would so take you seriously. You’re their captain, after all! Just gotta, y’know. Have confidence.”

“You really think so, bro?”

“I _know_ so, bro.” 

Bokuto’s eyes crinkle up with his smile before his eyes suddenly open wide. “What should our slogan be? ‘We are the body’s….’”

“Lymph nodes?”

“Huh?” 

“We were reviewing them in class the other day. They collect all the bad stuff in your body.”

“I see… ‘We are the lymph nodes!’” He furrows his eyebrows to increase the Serious Factor. Kuroo chokes down his laughter, restraining himself to a grin.

“Maybe that won’t work so well. It’s okay, we’ll find you something.”

“Man, see, this is why you’re my bro! Always helping me out.” Bokuto gets off the railing and begins stretching for the last leg of their run. “It feels like… I dunno! Like it’s easier being captain since you’re one too.” 

Kuroo doesn’t really know what to say to that, so he just joins Bokuto in stretching. They race for the last stretch of the run all the way back to Kuroo’s house, where Bokuto taps Kuroo’s door first. Well, more like he slams it, and Kuroo fears this time his mom will really wake up.

Fortunately, when they step inside, no one else is awake. Bokuto pulls off his sweat-drenched shirt before he even gets his shoes off, and Kuroo’s not sure if he’s been working out more or if it’s his own tired imagination but he swears Bokuto’s gotten even more buff since he last saw him. He pauses for a moment, nods in appreciation, then sits down to untie his shoelaces.

“Is it cool if I shower first? I have to catch the early train if I’m gonna make it to school on time.”

“Yeah, sure, go right ahead.”

He sits by the entrance, too worn out by his last sprint to want to relocate. It isn’t until he hears Bokuto yelling, “KUROO!” from the bathroom that he remembers, oh right, he’d set up that prank, hadn’t he?

He walks over and opens the bathroom door to check the fruits of his labor and isn’t disappointed. Bokuto’s normally sky-high hair hangs heavy over his forehead and into his eyes, covering his field of vision. It hasn’t been long since he got out of the shower-- he sits on the toilet in nothing but a towel, shoulders hunched, attempting to blow his bangs out of his face with little success. Kuroo laughs openly this time.

“Ha ha, very funny Kuroo! How am I supposed to go to school looking like this?”

Kuroo wipes tears out of his eyes. “I dunno man,” he says, smiling. “You could potentially rock this.”

“But the spiky hair look is my thing!” He sniffs, and his nose scrunches. “And I smell like really oily dumplings.”

Kuroo reaches over and runs his fingers through Bokuto’s bangs. “Hey, on the bright side, your hair’s really soft right now.”

Bokuto pouts at him.

“Alright bro, don’t worry, I’ll fix it.” He runs his fingers through a few more sections of Bokuto’s hair, aiming for more of a purposely messy look rather than a wet rat look. He doesn’t have to work too hard-- in all honesty, his hair didn’t look that bad to begin with. He actually kinda likes the look on Bokuto.

Bokuto himself seems to be resigned to his oily-haired fate, closing his eyes and leaning his head into Kuroo’s hand. Kuroo takes another few minutes to tussle his hair, and Bokuto actually hums for a good minute. 

It’s only when Kuroo pushes back a section of Bokuto’s bangs, inadvertently pulling Bokuto’s face up towards him, that he sees Bokuto’s eyes open halfway. He stares up at Kuroo with sleep still in his eyes, content like a purring cat.

They stay like that for a moment, Kuroo’s gaze drifting from Bokuto’s eyes, past his slightly open mouth, and down to his chest, still dripping from his shower. 

He doesn’t realize his hand has slid from the top of Bokuto’s head to the side of his face until he looks back up, but when he does, he doesn’t move it. Bokuto’s still looking at him, still leaning into his hand. His half-lidded gaze shifts downwards. Kuroo suddenly feels the humidity in the air from the shower, the heat of being cramped in his apartment’s small bathroom, with him taking up what little standing space there is, and Bokuto sitting in front of him, in the palm of his hand--

Bokuto’s eyes open wide. Kuroo pulls his hand away like pulling away from a hot plate.

“Shit! I’m gonna be late!” Bokuto yells as he stands up and frantically gathers his things. 

His swearing snaps Kuroo out of it, and he backs out of the bathroom and checks the clock behind him. Sure enough, they’ve only got 10 minutes until Bokuto’s train comes. 

When he turns back around, Bokuto’s already got his shorts on and is in the middle of pulling a shirt over his head. His hair ruffles up even more when he does, but he doesn’t even bother to fix it. He shoves all his things in his bag, throws it over his shoulder, and runs to the entrance.

“Aw man, where’d the time go! Sorry for rushing out, bro! Thanks for inviting me!” he says as he pulls on his shoes. He runs out with his shoelaces untied. 

Kuroo stares out the door, still swaying from when Bokuto slammed it against the frame. He stays there until the door stills, then heads back inside.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kuroo spends a lot of time thinking-- too much time, probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is, the second and final chapter of this gift! i'm sorry i made you wait for it ;; but i hope you like it! this fic marks a lot of firsts for me, so it was a great learning experience and just a great opportunity to be able to write a pairing i love so much so thanks for the prompt!
> 
> shout out to jihye, both for beta-ing and for helping me get over myself, and to tlist for putting up with me as i plowed through my very first exchange fic! you da real mvp o/

The rest of the day passes in an odd haze where the ticking of the classroom clock drowns out the voices of everyone around Kuroo, and the figures on the whiteboard and in his textbook look like static. He tries to get them to snap back into focus, but in his mind’s eye the scene from earlier that morning plays again over and over again in a seamless loop.

The swinging door. Bokuto’s back as he rushed out of Kuroo’s house. The weight and heat of his cheek in Kuroo’s palm. His hooded eyes staring unfocused at Kuroo’s eyes, then his mouth, then--

Kuroo’s body goes hot the way it always does when he remembers that part. The screen freezes like a paused VHS tape, rewinds, plays it again, stops at the same part. The humidity of the bathroom comes back to him, and all he wants is for the rest of the footage to play out differently than how it really had.

When he comes back to himself, it’s already five minutes into lunch break. Most of his classmates have either left the classroom or gathered around a few desks in the corner of the room. Having forgotten his wallet and lunch on the kitchen counter that morning, Kuroo buys himself a red bean bun with change he finds in his uniform pockets and heads over to the second-year hallway.

Kenma’s sitting at his desk playing his PSP when Kuroo taps on the window separating his classroom from the hallway. He doesn’t look up. Typical. 

Kuroo makes his way inside and parks his butt on Kenma’s desk, which gets Kenma’s attention if the small furrow of his eyebrows is any indication. Kuroo opens the wrapping on his bread as loudly as he can and stares at Kenma while he chews. 

Kenma sighs. “What’s wrong?” His eyes stay fixed to his video game screen.

“Wrong? Nothing, really. Just came to check on you. Have you eaten?”

“Yes.”

“What did your mom pack today?”

“A sandwich.” A pause. “And those little octopus sausages you like.” Before Kuroo can open his mouth to respond, Kenma nudges his lunch box with his elbow. “There are two left, I think.”

Kuroo opens the lunchbox and uses his thumb and index finger to drop the sausages in his mouth. Momentarily appeased, he slumps down so that he’s lying with his back across Kenma’s desk, the soles of his feet planted on the ground.

“Kuro.”

He turns his head and sees Kenma looking at him, game clearly paused.

“Yes, Kenma?”

“You’re taking up all my desk space.”

“Do you need it right now?” The upward lilt of Kuroo’s voice lingers for a second longer and he almost fails to hold back a smile.

“Not really. But lunch break ends in five minutes and you still haven’t told me what’s wrong.”

“Who said anything’s wrong?”

Kenma remains unfazed. “You normally don’t wait to start bugging me.”

Kuroo brings both hands to his chest and curls up onto his side. “You hurt me, Kenma. All this time I thought I was making friendly conversation and it turns out I’ve been bugging you.”

“You know what I mean,” Kenma says, and Kuroo thinks Kenma’s quickly hitting his eye-rolling record for one day. 

Kuroo decides turning back so that he’s facing the ceiling is an adequate response. He stays there for a moment. 

“Hey Kenma, when your phone or your DS or your computer or whatever freezes, what do you do?”

Kenma raises an eyebrow. “I dunno, usually I just turn it off and turn it back on.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“Well, then it’s probably a bigger problem then I can solve, so I take it to someone else to get it fixed.” His eyebrow is still raised, and Kuroo can tell he’s still trying to figure out where this conversation is going.

Nowhere, Kuroo’s decided. He’s gotten the answer he expected. As if on cue, a handful of Kenma’s classmates return to the classroom. Those that stayed to eat lunch go back to their desks, and Kuroo knows he should leave. He stands up.

“Thanks for the octopus sausages-- let your mom know they were good and tell her I said hi.” He turns around at the doorway. “Oh, and thanks for the advice.” He smiles. He sees Kenma mutter something to himself, but doesn’t catch it, already out in the hallway and heading back to class.

 

Truth be told, Kuroo wasn’t born yesterday. And Kuroo certainly didn’t experience the stressful life event that was puberty yesterday, either. He knows what it’s like to want things from someone he’d never thought of in that way before, to the point where it’s all he has on his mind. 

The first time it happened with a guy in mind, not one of the girls in his class, was his third year of middle school. It was the captain of his volleyball team, and that in-between period, that leap right before high school, wasn’t really the best time to be figuring out things more complicated than geometric proofs and translating subjunctive sentences in English. So he put off thinking too hard about it, too focused instead on choosing a good high school and making sure Kenma would be okay for a year.

It happened with Kenma exactly once, and he never thinks about it again, shudders when his brain reminds him of that time when he tries to fall asleep some nights.

But overall, Kuroo knows how to deal with this. It would be so easy, all he’d have to do would be to fabricate the rest of the tape and press play. In this version, Bokuto doesn’t run out the door, doesn’t move away from Kuroo’s hand. In this version, Bokuto’s eyes drift lower, and lower--

It would be so easy, to get this moment out of his mind, out of his system. What’s confusing this time is that he doesn’t want to.

He’s got his hand on the remote, ready to press play at any time. But the picture of the two of them, stuck in a moment that could’ve been the beginning of something else, is more appealing to him. As long as the picture is there, the moment never ends. The potential outcomes are infinite.

Kuroo doesn’t know what he wants. But when he lies in his bed at night and waits for his eyes to adjust, waits for sleep to greet him, he thinks he wants more than what his mind’s eye can show him.

 

Kuroo Tetsurou is a straightforward guy. That’s why he decides to take the straightforward advice Kenma has given him and approach Bokuto himself about his problem. 

The only flaw in this solution is that seeing Bokuto in person has suddenly become impossible. 

At first, it’s the ever-increasing flow of homework assignments and papers, due dates before golden week. Then it’s the daily practices that stretch a little longer each day, edging closer and closer to the time of day where Kuroo would rather be asleep. 

Coach Nekomata’s more fired up than ever at the news that they’ll be reunited with Karasuno, Nekoma’s previous rival team. He expects more from them, and Kuroo knows it’s because he sees what the new team can become. Kuroo trusts his judgment-- he does. But he can’t help the exhaustion that comes when he drops onto his bed at the end of the day, a weight like being underwater settling over him.

Bokuto still texts him from time to time; things like updates about the team ( _aww man if you coulda seen the spike sarukui hit today!!! nationals here we come!!_ ) to mundane details of his life ( _is it normal to get pimples on your elbow? its normal, right??_ ). Kuroo laughs silently and responds to most of them ( _we’ll see you there, just wait_ and _no, your arm is going to fall off. nice knowing u buddy_ ).

His fingers hover over the buttons on his phone. He knows it wouldn’t be a big deal to send a _hey, you free sometime this week?_ , to finally air out what’s been distracting him during the few free moments he can find. But he reasons Bokuto must be busy. His texts go from every day to every other day, then every few days, until Kuroo doesn’t hear from Bokuto for two weeks.

“Waiting on a call?” Yaku asks him during a break in practice, sitting down on the bench next to Kuroo.

Kuroo shuts his phone and stuffs it back into his bag. No notifications. 

“Not really. Just checking my texts.”

“Must be important. You’ve checked at least four or five times during practice.”

Kuroo shrugs. Thankfully, he’s saved from having to come up with an answer when Kai comes over and starts up a conversation with Yaku about his last play.

After practice and a meeting with Kai and the coaches, Kuroo walks home alone, having sent Kenma off before the meeting. For the first night in over a week, he doesn’t have much homework to do, so he takes the long route home and stops by the sports supply shop one neighborhood over from his own.

Not even three steps inside the store, Kuroo walks into someone looking at a display of athletic tape. He bows as the other person turns around. “Sorry, I wasn’t--”

“Kuroo-san?”

He looks up, eyes widening when he recognizes who’s standing in front of him. “Akaashi?”

Akaashi raises his eyebrows a fraction of a centimeter, but seems mostly unfazed. “What a coincidence seeing you here.”

“Tell me about it! What are you doing here anyway? Isn’t it kind of far from Fukurodani?” He leans against the frame of the display now that he knows it’s just Akaashi. The display wobbles, and he takes his weight off of it. Akaashi’s eyebrows remain raised.

“It’s a bit closer to my house, actually. I needed some things.” He turns back to the display and reaches out to check the price on a pack of tape. “What are you doing here, Kuroo-san? I thought you lived closer to Nekoma?”

“Did Bokuto tell you that?” He scratches the back of his head. “Yeah, it’s kind of a walk. Just felt like seeing if there’s anything I need here.” He looks away, out the door, then turns back to Akaashi. “Speaking of Bokuto, is he here with you?”

Akaashi waits a moment and considers Kuroo, one eyebrow slightly raised, his hand still on the athletic tape in front of him. He turns back to the package of tape and removes it from its hook. “No, he’s gone home already. It is kind of late, after all.”

Kuroo hums in agreement and follows Akaashi to the register. “Yeah, I should be heading home soon. We both should, probably.”

Akaashi keeps his focus on the cashier ringing up his one item. “I’m heading home after this. There’s a lot to do before golden week.”

Kuroo lingers behind Akaashi as he puts the tape in his bag and steps out the door. “You’re telling me. Between this and getting ready for Inter-High I’m not getting any sleep.” He pauses when he sees Akaashi heading towards the opposite direction he plans on going in. “Akaashi?”

“Yes, Kuroo-san?” 

“How…” He pauses. Frowns. “How’s Bokuto doing lately?”

Akaashi turns to face him head on, then glances back in the direction he was heading in. He’s probably thinking, calculating something. Kuroo never really understands what goes on in his head. He’s resigned himself to it.

“Do you have a couple minutes before you need to head back?”

Kuroo raises an eyebrow. “Um. I guess?”

“I’m headed towards the subway station. It’s a five-minute walk.”

It takes him a few seconds to process that Akaashi is asking Kuroo to walk with him to the station. “Alright then, yeah. Let’s walk and talk.”

They’ve been walking for about a minute before Akaashi speaks up again.

“You asked how Bokuto-san’s doing. He’s been… doing okay, for the most part.”

“For the most part?”

They reach an intersection, and Akaashi’s looking both ways as he speaks, one hand keeping his bag in place as he leans forward. “It’s busy for everyone right now, me and him especially. I’m sure you and Kai-san understand.”

Kuroo waits until they cross to speak. “Is he stressed out because of Inter-High? Is that what’s wrong?”

“That’s what I thought, initially. It’s true his mood swings are more frequent these days. But it seems…” He stops, and Kuroo stops behind him before he can walk into him again. Akaashi’s gaze meets Kuroo’s over his shoulder. 

Kuroo doesn’t know what kind of expression he’s wearing, doesn’t know if it’s what Akaashi’s looking for. After a moment, Akaashi keeps walking, and continues. “I don’t think that’s the problem.”

“What _is_ the problem, then?”

They walk along a main road where the traffic drowns out any response Akaashi could give. Kuroo watches him, thinks he sees him sigh and mumble to himself, but he can’t tell what he’s saying. When they get to a quieter spot, Akaashi stops and turns to face him again.

“Kuroo-san, can I ask you a question?”

“You already have,” he says while trying not to laugh. That joke was one of his favorites. 

Akaashi doesn’t seem to like it much, if the straight set of his eyebrows is any indication. 

“Alright, alright. Of course you can.” Kuroo settles on a smile. “Shoot.”

Akaashi pauses. “What is Bokuto-san to you?”

Kuroo hesitates again. “He’s my closest bro. He knows that.”

“Is that it?”

Everything stops. A ringing in Kuroo’s ears joins the sound of cars in drowning out everything around him. His heartbeat stops, then races. He knows his eyes must be wide open.

Does Akaashi know? How? Is it that obvious? Did Bokuto say anything to him? What did he say? Does Bokuto know? Has he given himself away somehow?

Akaashi sighs. “I’m sorry if that seems like a weird question. To be honest, I’m not asking because I want to know the answer. I just wanted to know if you knew.” 

Kuroo stays glued to his spot for a moment, still waiting for the ringing to fade. When it does, he realizes Akaashi’s waiting for him further along the sidewalk, and he walks briskly to catch up. 

“That _was_ kind of a weird question to ask out of the blue.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Did Bokuto tell you to ask me that?”

“No, he didn’t. But I think,” Akaashi says. Stops. Starts again. “If you have an answer, you should probably go discuss it with Bokuto-san.” He glances back at Kuroo. “I think he would appreciate that.” 

They’ve arrived at the station, the light of the entrance glowing against the starless night that surrounds them. Suddenly, the street feels quiet.

“Okay. Can do.”

Akaashi’s eyebrows relax the slightest bit. He adjusts his bag on his shoulder. “Well, it was nice seeing you, Kuroo-san.”

“Yeah. Nice seeing you too.” 

Akaashi disappears into the mouth of the subway entrance. Kuroo heads home.

 

“Kuro? The train’s here, come on.”

His eyes re-focus when Kenma tugs on his sleeve, pulling him forward. In front of him, the train doors sound their warning. He and Kenma run inside right before they close.

The train’s full with students and people on their morning commute, so they stand, Kuroo grabbing onto the railing above his head, Kenma grabbing onto his jacket. Kenma pulls his phone out of his pocket with his free hand.

“We almost missed the train.”

“Sorry. I just spaced out for a moment there.”

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

Kuroo hums, but doesn’t reply. Kenma’s distracted by his newest game booted up on his phone, so Kuroo’s mind drifts off again.

_What is Bokuto-san to you?_ Akaashi’s words are a boldfaced banner in the room of Kuroo’s mind. Something he can’t ignore, even if he turns away from it. 

As it stands, all his thoughts are already centered around the question-- he doesn’t really need a reminder, and he wishes the universe would stop rushing him. But the more he waits, wonders, considers, the longer the silence between him and Bokuto becomes. And for what little he knows of what he wants, Kuroo knows _that_ definitely isn’t it.

Kuroo remembers his first meeting with Bokuto on the volleyball court, back during a practice match in their first year of high school. Nekoma has always been a good team, a team that could go to the nationals-- but Fukurodani was still a tier above the rest. 

The week leading up to the practice match was a series of drills so tough Kuroo can still feel the ache in his muscles when he thinks about it. Back at the bottom of the totem pole and eager to prove himself, Kuroo had put all his effort into those practices. It paid off when they put him on the starting line up, and Kuroo knew he was good, knew Nekoma was a good team. There was no way they wouldn’t win.

They lost, of course. Zero to two, with only the second match ending in more than 25 points. Their spikes being repeatedly blocked by the solid Fukurodani third-years had messed with their momentum, frustration settling into their limbs only halfway through the game.

The real problem, though, was the first-year wing spiker with the wide eyes and loud voice. Whenever he’d call for a toss, it rang out throughout the whole gym, a warning of what was about to come. Sometimes, it was a miss. But sometimes, his hand would meet the ball and, in a moment almost as short as a blink, the ball would slam against the opposite side of the court.

Kuroo watched as the wing spiker’s teammates gathered around him after he scored, patting him on the back or messing up his silver-white hair. It’s hard for Kuroo to remember now, what he must’ve felt back then, but its shape in his mind reminds him of envy.

After the game ended, however, said wide-eyed wing spiker approached him after he had changed out of his uniform, in the midst of packing up.

“Hey! You’re Nekoma’s first-year middle blocker, right?”

Kuroo looked around, then turned back to him. “Uh, yeah?”

“Aw man, you did a really good job out there today, dude! Those block-outs were intense! How do you know when to jump like that?”

“Um, I just… do, I guess. It takes practice.” He squinted slightly at the loud guy in front of him. Was he being serious?

“Man, you’re telling me! My coach says I really need to work on my blocks. I just can’t seem to time them right! It’s so frustrating!” Kuroo let down his guard a bit when he saw that the guy was serious, if the way he was sulking with his whole body was any indication.

“Well I mean, with spikes like those, you’re more than set. My teammates freaked when they found out you were a first-year.”

His posture had straightened, his whole body brightening with his face. “Really? You think so?” He schooled his smile into a slightly more serious expression. “Well, I mean. I still have a lot of things to learn from my upperclassmen, but. Thanks!” 

Owl-guy (Kuroo can’t believe it took him that long to see the resemblance) seemed to realize he forgot something. “Oh! I’m Bokuto, by the way, Bokuto Koutarou. What’s your name?”

Kuroo remembers a feeling like smiling, something about the guy’s energy contagious. “Kuroo Tetsurou. Just Kuroo is fine.”

Kuroo finds himself smiling now, in the crowded privacy of the subway car. He doesn’t know how they hit it off so well that Bokuto was texting him a disappointed message after their last game of the summer ( _man, i heard about how regionals went! that sucks :( it would be so awesome to see you at nationals!!_ ), doesn’t know how rivalry bled into friendship so quickly.

He compares the memory to that of their most recent practice match against Fukurodani in the spring. This time, they were headed into third-year, both of them aware they’d be appointed captain soon. It wasn’t his self-worth as a player on the line anymore, but his pride as future captain of the team.

It had been a tough game. Both teams had gotten a lot stronger since the year before, and this time, the game ended in three matches, not two. 

In the end, the outcome was the same: Nekoma lost. But this time, when he looked across the net to where Bokuto was surrounded by his team, yelling after having spiked the winning point, nothing like jealousy or resentment rose in his mind. 

Kuroo can see clearly the way Bokuto had gone from squeezing several of his teammates into a tight hug to the way he’d turned around, had met Kuroo’s eyes. The way they seemed to light up even more when he saw Kuroo on the other side of the net. Kuroo tries to place the feeling, and he can sense pride, and fondness, and--

He laughs. In the quiet hum of the morning subway, Kuroo laughs at himself, at this feeling. 

So that’s it.

Kenma stares up at him. “What’s so funny?”

Kuroo shakes his head. “Nothing.” He looks ahead of him, into his reflection in the subway doors. “Everything, maybe.” 

Kenma’s still staring at him when the doors open in front of them a moment later. “Come on, this is our stop,” Kuroo says, and takes a step forward.

 

With the universe, his conscience, and Akaashi Keiji nudging him along, Kuroo finally works up the courage to talk to Bokuto. 

Practice ends early for once on Friday. Finally back at home, he pulls out his phone and almost drops it, anticipation settling even into his fingers as he tries to open it. When he does, he sees he’s got several notifications. They’re all from Bokuto.

_5 missed calls_ and _1 unread message_ , his phone reads. 

There’s no voicemail, so Kuroo opens the message first.

_hey bro, i know your probably heading home now but call me when you get this message!!_

Kuroo hits the call button immediately and waits for Bokuto to pick up. Was it an emergency? If so, why hadn’t he left a voice message? Why’d his phone have to be on silent today, of all--

“Hello? Kuroo?”

“Bokuto! What’s going on? Did something happen?”

“Oh, no, nothing happened! Everything’s fine, bro! I didn’t mean to make you worry,” Bokuto says, and at once Kuroo’s body relaxes.

He lets out a sigh. “Come on, bro, you could’ve at least texted me that.” He hears Bokuto mutter a small “Sorry,” and his mouth rises into a small smile. “I’m glad you’re okay. But if it’s not an emergency, what _is_ going on?”

“Oh! Well, uh. I’m actually at the park near your house, at the spot by the pond. Do you think you could come over?”

“Uh,” Kuroo pulls the phone away from his face to check what time it is. They’ve still got little over an hour till it gets dark, and he wonders how early Bokuto must’ve left school to be here right now. “Sure, gimme twenty and I’ll be there.”

“Awesome! See you then!” He hears Bokuto hang up. 

Kuroo stares at his phone for a moment. Then, he gets up, puts his shoes on in a hurry, and runs out the door.

He leaves the house with nothing but his phone on him and gets there in ten minutes. He takes a moment to stop and breathe before he turns the bend to where the pond spreads open beyond the trees in front of him. Once he’s no longer panting, he keeps going.

Bokuto’s silhouette is darkened by the shadow of the tree he’s standing under, but when he sees Kuroo he starts jumping and waving. He does look okay, thankfully.

Kurooe still wants to know why he called him over here without telling him anything, though. When he reaches Bokuto, they share a high-five that turns into a hug. He feels Bokuto’s hand squeeze tighter on his back before they pull away.

“Long time no see, man. I was just thinking of calling you to see how you’ve been,” Kuroo says, leaning back onto the railing the way he had when they first came here, his hands in his pockets.

Bokuto fidgets with his hands, shoulders slumped. “Yeah, sorry about not keeping in touch or anything….”

Kuroo shakes his head. “It’s alright. It’s kind of my fault too, but I’ve been swamped this semester. Akaashi told me you guys have been busy too?”

“You saw Akaashi?” Bokuto straightens up, and Kuroo wonders if he shouldn’t have mentioned that.

“Yeah, I ran into him yesterday. He told me you guys were busy with Inter-High and everything.”

“Did he say anything else?” 

Kuroo can tell Bokuto’s worried about something, with the way his fidgeting picks back up. He suddenly wonders if he’s supposed to know what Akaashi told him, about Bokuto’s recent mood swings. He hates keeping secrets, especially from Bokuto.

In the end he decides that whatever’s on Bokuto’s mind, he can wait for Bokuto to mention himself. “No, he didn’t say anything else. Actually, I--”

“Oh, that’s good to hear. I mean--” He waves his arms in the air as he backtracks. “Not that there’s anything he shouldn’t tell you! I mean…”

Kuroo watches as Bokuto freezes up, his arms still in mid-air. He closes his mouth, drops his hands, and takes a deep breath.

“Actually, there’s a reason I called you out here, and it’s the kind of thing I wanted to tell you in person, so…” 

“Yeah, not gonna lie, I was kind of worried about that. What’s up?”

“Well. Um.” Kuroo watches Bokuto pace back and forth as he tries to gather his words. He stops suddenly and turns to Kuroo. “Just let me say what I have to say, then you can give me your answer, okay?”

Kuroo nods. His hands sink deeper into his pockets, bracing himself. He straightens his back.

“So. You know how I really love volleyball now, right? Like, it’s all I can think about sometimes.” Kuroo nods. “Do you know why that is?”

Kuroo has a guess, but he stays silent and waits for Bokuto to continue.

“It took a while, but I just realized,” he says, frowning in concentration, “When I’m playing and a spike I hit goes right through the blockers, I feel like… like it’s something only I can do, you know?”

Bokuto freezes and adds quickly, “Not that it’s just me making it happen! I have a great team too!” He goes back to furrowing his eyebrows as he works out the rest of what he’s trying to say. “But I mean, I know the guys probably think I’m not too bright sometimes-- which is unfair! Because I only had to take remedial classes once!

“Anyway!” He shakes his head, as if ridding himself from distractions. “I’m just saying that it’s nice to have something that makes me feel special, like I stand out, you know? As corny as that is.”

Kuroo opens his mouth to add that it’s not corny, but Bokuto presses on. “Well, these days, I’ve been thinking about… something else, almost as much as I think about volleyball. Sometimes more, even! And, I think it’s because… it makes me feel the same way?”

“And that something is….” He takes another deep breath. “It’s you, Kuroo.”

Bokuto stands in front of Kuroo, facing him head on. Kuroo can tell the sun’s setting behind him with the way Bokuto’s face is lit in the softening orange light. Something like sunlight fills Kuroo’s chest, and he can’t speak or react, he’s so full with it. 

He feels like laughing. Leave it to Bokuto to beat him at this, too.

The momentary silence is filled again by Bokuto rushing his words out. “I mean, you’re my best friend! But these days I’ve been thinking about how you give really great hugs, and how you probably have nice hands to hold--”

“Bro--” Kuroo attempts.

“And I asked Akaashi if it’s normal? To think about kissing your best friend sometimes? And he didn’t really answer but he kind of looked at me funny so I kind of took that as a no--”

“Dude, I--”

“And I know that’s probably weird and maybe you feel uncomfortable but I’m not really good at keeping secrets, especially not from you, so even if you--”

“Bokuto!”

He finally stops, wide-eyed and almost out of breath from speaking for so long without pause. “Yeah?”

Kuroo wishes he were better with words at times like these, wishes he could express precisely the warmth he feels all the way down to his feet. 

What comes out instead is, “Me too.”

“Huh?”

“I. I’ve been feeling the same thing.”

And Kuroo never thinks Bokuto’s eyes can open wider, but every time he proves him wrong. “You mean, you--?”

“Yeah.”

Bokuto stares at him. Despite the light quickly leaving them as night falls, Kuroo can see bright as day the realization slowly setting into Bokuto’s face. He finds a smile that mirrors his own, wide and bright with a feeling like hope.

In an instant, Bokuto jumps at him and squeezes him in a tight hug, his arms wrapping around Kuroo’s shoulders. Kuroo laughs and brings up his arms around Bokuto, his hands meeting on Bokuto’s lower back.

They stay like that for a moment until Bokuto pulls back. Kuroo loosens his grip.

“Wait, so, if I like you, and you like me--”

“Yeah?”

“Does this mean I can kiss you now?”

Kuroo lets out another laugh. “Yeah, it does.”

“Oh! Okay,” is all the warning he gets before he finds Bokuto’s lips on his own, his arms tightening around Kuroo’s shoulders. He bumps his nose into Bokuto’s, and with his eyes still open Kuroo can see Bokuto’s squeezed shut.

He pulls away and tilts his head before leaning into Bokuto’s lips again, laughing into the kiss. His eyes drift closed, and he feels Bokuto’s hands slide up to cup his face. Bokuto’s lips part slightly, and Kuroo follows suit. 

After a few moments Bokuto’s pulling away, mouth still hovering a few centimeters away from Kuroo’s. Kuroo lets out a small sigh and slowly opens his eyes. 

There it is again, the sight of Bokuto looking at him through half-lidded eyes, only this time he’s right there, and Kuroo can feel the warmth of his hands on his jaw and his breath, and in that moment, he knows he was right: this is better than anything he could’ve made up in his head.

Bokuto slowly comes back to himself, and the next moment he’s leaning his head on Kuroo’s shoulder, arms sliding down to rest near Kuroo’s sides. Kuroo can feel Bokuto’s face heating up, the warmth seeping through the fabric of his shirt. He smiles and slides his hands down to meet Bokuto’s, slipping his fingers in between his.

They stay like that for a while, long after the sun has set and the sky has truly darkened into night. When they do walk back, Bokuto’s back to talking loudly, this time about everything that’s happened in the past two weeks, and how excited he is for Inter-High, and it feels almost like everything’s back to the way it used to be. The only difference is the way they walk hand in hand this time, Bokuto pulling Kuroo along, Kuroo holding tightly to Bokuto’s hand to keep him from walking too far ahead. 

 

“Nice one, Lev!” Kuroo yells after Lev manages to hit a slam a spike down onto the other side of the court.

“Did you see that, Yaku-san?” Lev says, then turns to Kenma, who tossed him the ball just a moment ago. “Did you see that, Kenma?!”

“Yeah yeah, we saw it, now get to the back of the line!” Yaku yells. Lev does as told and Yamamoto goes up to spike.

Kuroo holds back a laugh, but it dies down anyway when he feels a heavy presence on his back, an arm resting on his right shoulder.

“Way to creep, man,” Kuroo says, but his half-smile betrays him. He turns his head over his left shoulder to glance back at Bokuto. “I thought you guys weren’t getting here for another half hour.” 

“We managed to beat traffic! The rest of the team’s heading in now.” Bokuto leans forward and rests his chin against Kuroo’s shoulder, not quite hooking it over thanks to his height. Kuroo loosely intertwines his fingers with Bokuto’s and looks back out onto the court.

“So how about it? Did you get a good look at the tall new first-year on our team?”

“Yeah, that spike was crazy! It’s like his arm’s a whip or something!”

At that point, a wolf whistle, an “ow- _ow_ ” and a “Hey you two, get a room!” sound from near the entrance to the gym. Bokuto and Kuroo both turn around in unison to find the Fukurodani third-years giggling to themselves. Konoha and Komi share a high-five. Akaashi rolls his eyes at them, but as he walks by Kuroo and Bokuto and onto the court, Kuroo swears he can see Akaashi give them a small smile.

Bokuto pulls away right as their coach calls for the practice match to start. The energy in the room feels like static and anticipation. Nekoma’s just come out of a great practice match with Karasuno the previous week, and Inter-High is coming soon, but the date lingers in the air not as an end to their efforts, but as a new beginning.

Kuroo spins the ball in his hands and looks across the net to where Bokuto’s standing with his team. He raises an eyebrow. “You ready?”

“Bring it!” Bokuto yells.

Kuroo closes his eyes and smiles before heading to the back of Nekoma’s side of the court. After a lingering look to the other side of the net, he throws the ball, leaps, and serves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They’re both sitting on the big cushioned reclining chair in Bokuto’s living room, Kuroo squished into Bokuto’s side and both their legs hanging off the armrests. Some campy old horror movie is playing on the TV. Kuroo’s almost nodding off, head lolling onto Bokuto’s shoulder. The movie ends and commercials play, but no one gets up to change the channel.
> 
> “Hey, Kuroo?”
> 
> “Hmm?”
> 
> “Well like. I was just wondering… if we’re boyfriends now, does that mean we have to get each other flowers and stuff like that?”
> 
> Kuroo lifts his head and stares at Bokuto.
> 
> “I was just asking! I dunno.” Bokuto raises the arm not pinned down by Kuroo and scratches the back of his head. 
> 
> “I dunno, bro. I don’t think we really _have_ to do anything.”
> 
> “Oh. Okay. Yeah. That makes sense!”
> 
> There’s silence for a few moments, and Kuroo’s about to go back to resting on Bokuto’s shoulder when he speaks up again.
> 
> “I mean, ‘cause like. If you _wanted_ to get me flowers, I like marigolds. Just ‘cause like, my aunt grows them in her garden, and I think they’re kinda cool-looking, and…”
> 
> He stops when he notices Kuroo staring at him.
> 
> “What? Is that weird?”
> 
> Kuroo’s mouth rises into a half-smile.
> 
> “Not at all, bro. I’m gonna get you some marigolds. When you least expect it.” He rests his head on Bokuto’s shoulder. “Be on the lookout.”
> 
> Bokuto’s eyes widen, and then crinkle shut as he smiles.
> 
> “Alright!”


End file.
